


Many Happy Returns

by holly_violet



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Birthday Sex, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Happy Birthday Simon Snow, Happy Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Morning Kisses, Morning Sex, My First Smut, No Plot/Plotless, Non-Explicit, Not Beta Read, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, idk what this is, just happy boyfriends being happy, like i dont say the word cock lmao, smut is kind of like the sex scenes you'd get in r13 movies?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 06:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19312963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holly_violet/pseuds/holly_violet
Summary: Baz never thought he'd love mornings.





	Many Happy Returns

**Author's Note:**

> *throws this at you* TAKE IT
> 
> happy belated birthday simon snow!

**_baz_ **

I never thought I’d say or think this, but I’ve decided I love mornings.

At Watford, Simon would wake up at some unholy hour and start crashing around our room. I don’t know if he was actually trying to wake me up, or if he was just naturally that clumsy, but he managed to wake me every single time. He’s throw open the blinds, and often the windows, too, and the light would come shining into my eyes and I’d end up shivering and grumbling. He’d grin at me, probably because he’d succeeded in pissing me off, and the sun would be lighting him from the back and his frizzy curls would glow like a halo.

Since we left, and I’ve been spending most nights at his and Penny’s apartment, he’s been waking up early less and less frequently. I like to flatter myself into thinking that that’s at least partially my doing.

I think it’s okay for me to say that, because every morning I wake up with his warm, solid chest pressed to my back and our legs entwined. Both of us managed to make sure our classes at uni are after ten o’clock, so we always stay in bed for almost as long as we want. A while ago, I acquired silk sheets (and by _acquired_ I mean I took them from Pitch Manor the last time I visited), and they’re smooth against my skin, and the soft golden light coming in from the windows makes everything in the room look smooth and gently yellowed, like we’re living in a film’s flashback to better times.

If this is really going to be the calm before another storm, then I’m damn happy to live in it for a little longer.

The room is just warming up, from the mid-June sun, and I want to stay in Simon’s arms for a while longer. I can see the clock on the nightstand out of the corner of my eyes, and it’s not even nine yet, and I don’t think either of us have class today, which is lovely timing because it’s also Simon’s birthday.

Or, at least, we think it is. Last year, Simon, Penny and I did some sleuthing to try and find out when his birthday actually is. We even spoke to the people at the orphanage and got the date that they found him, and then counted back a few weeks, and decided that his birthday is probably June twenty-first. It was an emotional week, because even thinking about Simon’s parents is rough for all of us, obviously him especially, but we’re all glad to have another day each year on which we can all be happy. God knows, we have too many when we’re sad.

I feel him press a kiss to the nape of my neck, and he pulls me closer. I grab his hand, from where it’s draped over me, and squeeze it.

“Happy birthday, love,” I whisper, and he hums in response. I feel him smile sleepily against my skin, and I love him so much that I almost feel like I’m going to explode.

“Thanks,” he says just as quietly, his voice low and rough with sleep. “D’we need to get up?”

“Nope. Not for ages.” His arm around my waist falls away, and I roll over carefully so I’m facing him. His eyes are closed, and I kiss his cheek, where he’s got a freckle. “What do you want to do today?”

“Go out for lunch, maybe? I’m happy just to stay in bed all day, honestly.” He opens his eyes, and smiles at me. “As long as I spend today with you, I don’t care what we get up to.” I think my heart swells about eight sizes, and I lean in to kiss him, his hand gently drifting up the sides of my torso. I slip my leg in between his. He keeps kissing me, gently, and it’s a little awkward because we’re both smiling and our teeth clack together, but it’s all I could ask for. Our happiness is tangible, and part of me wonders how we’re not glowing.

“How’s it feel being 22?” I ask him, a little breathlessly.

“Same as being 21,” he responds, “Except better, because now we’ll be the same age for a couple of months. And, 22 sounds older. Like, 21 made me sound like I was some kind of rebellious youth.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Don’t care. Now, c’mon, Penny’ll be waking up soon. I need to take advantage of being alone with you for a while.”

We’re both a bit more awake by now, and my hand trails between his thighs as he rolls onto his back, letting me fall between his legs and kiss him with a little more vigor, tugging his lower lip between my teeth as his fingers sink into my hips, golden skin against grey-brown.

Colour rises in his cheeks as I nip at the skin of his jaw, leaving little marks which I’ll catch him looking at fondly in the mirror later, and I move my hand, and the little noises spilling from his lips are gorgeous, and making him sound like that more often suddenly becomes my number one life priority.

“Holy _shit,”_ he murmurs against my neck, “that’s so good, don’t you _dare_ stop.”

As if I’d stop, when he’s grinding his hips against my hand and throwing his head back against the pillow as I speed up the movements of my long fingers around him, scattering kisses on his collar-bones and heaving chest.

“You,” I say between kisses, “are so hot. Like, gorgeous. Beautiful. Handsome.”

He smiles, and tugs me upwards, kissing me with bruising urgency as the roll of his hips becomes more erratic. He breathe heavily, moaning softly into my mouth.

“C’mon, c’mon, I’ve got you,” I murmur. I feel him shudder, and I slow my movements as he comes with a shout, muffled against my shoulder, and I roll off him, laying my head on his chest as he drifts back to reality, squinting as the sun hits his eyes.

“Best birthday morning I’ve ever had,” he says quietly, and I laugh softly. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“We still have time, right? Your turn.” A shiver runs down my spine, as he pushes me down against the mattress. He moves to kiss down my chest and stomach, when we hear a crash.

“Boys? Breakfast!” Penny shouts from the kitchen, and Simon groans.

“Christ, Simon, did you just _groan_ at the thought of breakfast? Who are you, and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

“Good point. I am starving. But, I’d rather stay in bed with you. You didn’t get to come—”

“ _Simon! Baz!_ Food, going cold!” Penny shouts, again. I reach over to grab a tissue, wiping it over his stomach and making him blush again, adorably. Simon kisses me one last time before he sits up and tugs on joggers and a t-shirt.

“To be continued later,” he says, as I smile and sit up to follow him. As I dress and go to walk through the flat to the kitchen, I see Penny say a loud ‘ _happy birthday!’_ and hug him, and Simon smiles with an infectious grin.

I lean against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed loosely over one of his t-shirts.

“Many happy returns, love,” I say, and he looks at me softly.

“Always happy, with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey so this is the first time i've written like actual smut lmao idk where this confidence came from
> 
> sorry mum
> 
> it's also the millionth time i've written my otps just making out and cuddling in bed like i'm sorry i can't do plot
> 
> my tumblr is [galaxy-houseplants](https://galaxy-houseplants.tumblr.com) if you wanna chat 
> 
> kudos and comments are appreciated! thanks for reading! please dont judge me for this!


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